When Does the Pain End?
I am a lovely, talented, intelligent, professional mother of two. And I'm still, after 4 years, grieving the end of my 16 year marriage.
It's only been a year and a half since the divorce but I thought I'd be fine by now. Seriously. I have great friends, a counselor I can call if needed, I have read the books, and I know how to grieve.
But I'm so tired of it.
I want to enjoy this time of my life. My kids are doing great, I have a beautiful townhome, a job that I love...
But I can't seem to have more than a week or two of peace and joy at one time.
My head says this is all normal. My head knows that I gave myself wholeheartedly to my marriage, to my husband. And that I love deeply and therefore it may take time. Blablabla
My heart hurts. Not for him. No, that's been gone a long time. My hearts just feels sick of waiting, sick of hoping, sick of wanting, and sick of feeling like I'm on my own.
Yes, I know, I'm not really alone. I know (again, with my head) that there is, in fact, a God. And He loves me, even likes me. But I feel nothing. Mostly just bored. I can't read like I used to, I have way too much time on my hands, or not enough, and want everyone to go away. I can spend a great time with a friend or two and have fun and even laugh...a lot. But the minute I'm alone, it's there again. Crushing silence. The void. Like the world is just empty and here I am.
What I would have given for just a moment of feeling lonely when the kids were little and I was at home fulltime for all those years. Naptime and bedtime was exquisite. I would put on soft music, light candles and just relax and soak in a bubblebath until I was wrinkled beyond recognition...
I loved being alone.
And even now, I can have dinner alone, fly on an airplane alone, go to the mall alone. And it doesn't bother me at all.
But there still comes the dark nights, creeping up on me when I least expect it. And then I know.
It's back. The pain. The numbness. The complete boredom. And no matter what I do, it won't just go away. I mean, I can't make it go away.
But it will. It will go away I wish saying that it will go away would feel like hope. But it doesn't.
It will just be gone one day. It's happened several times. And I feel like myself again. Clearheaded. Optimistic. Hopeful. Brave.
But not today.
Today I'm scared. And little. And the debt is bothering me and I feel fat, and every ounce of the 20 pounds I gained, from the lattes and chocolate I have used to manage the stress, feels uncomfortable and foreign.
And I know that everyone in the house is happier than me.
And that's just downright frightening because I live with a teenaged drama-queen daughter with wicked PMS.